The single, satin ballet slipper tumbled down, down, down the side of the building, landing on the city sidewalk below with barely a sound. There, among throngs of foot travelers oblivious to all but their digital devices, it was kicked aside several times before coming to rest at the soiled base of a traffic signal alight in red.
From her precarious perch at the edge of the roof high above, the wind slicing through the thin, still-damp fabric clinging to her small frame, Carmen watched the rehearsal continue in the building across the street, just three stories below. Slowly, she untied the ribbons of the other slipper and wondered what it would take for them to finally take notice of her.
From the Studio30-Plus prompt, “precarious perch,”150-word limit.